


Pass Them Over

by DKGwrites



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alex Danvers & Maggie Sawyer - Freeform, Alex Danvers & Sam Arias - Freeform, F/F, Freedom, Maggie Sawyer & Kate Kane - Freeform, Pesach | Passover, Slavery, post Sanvers feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-04-14 23:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKGwrites/pseuds/DKGwrites
Summary: Alex gets a call from her not so distant past looking for help.  Maggie Sawyer, her ex-fiancée needs a favor, and Alex wouldn’t say no even if she could.  It involves a trip to Gotham, white slavers, and impersonating a local vigilante.  It all goes right...until something goes wrong.





	1. A Call From The Past

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my good friend @Hadaregaming and all the others of Jewish faith out there. With much love from your goy friend, I hope you enjoy this tale for Passover. I'm still finishing it up, but I hope to have the next chapter out today. Wishing you and those you love peace, health, and happiness, at Passover and always.

Alex knocks on the door of Sam’s office at L-Corp, two cups of coffee in a cardboard takeout carrying tray in hand.  When she receives a curious, ‘Come In’ from Sam, she pushes the door open and smiles.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” Sam replies with a smile, leaning back in her chair.  Some of the tension that had been riding her body is instantly shed at the site of her visitor.  “I should have known it was you, well, you or Lena.  There’s only three people with access to get by Jess without an appointment.”

Making her way across the room, Alex puts the tray of coffees on the coffee table, but she pauses at Sam’s explanation.  “Me, Lena and…?”

“Oh, Kara.”  Sam joins Alex across the room, taking a seat on the couch.  She examines both cups briefly, making note of which cup is marked with her beverage choice before selecting it.  “I knew you weren’t Kara.”

Alex chuckles before taking her cup and a seat on the couch.  “Explain.”

“I can hear her coming a mile away.  She stops and talks to everyone, talks to Jess for like five minutes so excited about everything.  It’s clear why you’re the secret agent in the family and her job is to get people to talk to her.  It suits you both.”

Her cup to her mouth, Alex’s look is contemplative.  She blows across the open piece of the plastic lid.  “Do you think I’m secretive?”

Sam looks over sharply perhaps startled by the question.  “Secretive?  Well that’s your job, isn’t it?”

“I mean personally not professionally.”

“Oh.”  Pulling off her lid to blow into the cup, Sam looks inside for a few moments before returning her gaze to Alex.  “Well, I think you’re guarded.”

“I don’t mean to be,” Alex replies immediately.

Placing her cup on the table, Sam reaches across and grabs Alex’s wrist.  She’s not a small woman, and her long fingers wrap around the other woman’s wrist.  “Alex, no one means to be anything.  I don’t think any of us mean to be anything.  You’ve been through it lately though, haven’t you?”

Alex stares at that hand for a long time, feels the warmth that seeps into her bones.  She doesn’t touch people except for her sister.  She hasn’t touched anyone in months since…”Yes,” she replies as she meets Sam’s gaze.  “It’s getting better.  I’m okay.”

“Well, better than okay would be nice.”  Sam squeezes Alex’s wrist one more time before letting go and retrieving her own coffee.

“Actually, I came here to check on you, to see how you’re doing.  Anymore blackouts?”

“Damn it,” Sam declares quietly as she spills some of the coffee on the table.

“Are you okay?  That’s hot.  Did you burn yourself?”

Sam shakes her hand over the table, bits of coffee flicking off.  “I’m fine.  I’ve got napkins in my desk.”  She laughs as she crosses the room, her smile a bit tight.  “Obviously, this isn’t my first time doing that.  I’m a bit of a klutz.”

“You and Kara both.  It must be the gravity.”

A pile of napkins in hand.  Sam wipes at her hand as she makes her way back to the table, confusion painting her face.  “What?”

“You’re both tall.  My theory is that tall women struggle with gravity more.  It makes you klutzes.”

Sam chuckles.  “That must be it.  I’m definitely gravity challenged.”  She sops up the liquid from the table.  “What about professional basketball players?”

“Outliers.  Every experiment has anomalies.  It’s just a matter of statistics”

“Well, statistics I can get behind,” Sam says as she rises and throws out the napkins.  “I’ll leave the science to you, Dr. Danvers.”

“Dr. Danvers?”  Alex sips from her coffee, a smile spreading.  “Okay, I can get behind that.  It classes me up a little bit from Agent Danvers.”

“What about Dr. Agent Danvers?”

Alex’s nose crinkles up.  “That makes it sound like my first name is Agent.”

Sam’s laugh is loud and easy, yet gentle at the same time.  “You know, it’s better now, but to hear Lena talk when I first took this position, I would have thought your first name was Agent.  It was all ‘Kara, Kara, Kara’ but you were definitely ‘Agent Danvers’.  She told me to watch out for you.”

“Why?  What did I ever do to Lena?”

“Nothing.” Sam sits again, taking her cup and sipping carefully.  “Well, that’s not true.  Apparently, you saved her life.  However, you did nothing else, but Lena was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  She expects people to distrust her, and she befriended your sister.  You being a federal agent, she thought you’d rip her life apart.  Then you didn’t, so…”

Alex’s brows furrow.  “Lena thought I was going to do something to her just because I hadn’t yet?  That...literally makes no sense.”

“You’re not a Luthor.  Lena was raised to distrust, to deal with everyone with scrutiny.  She’s very careful about the people she lets in.  I know I was weighed and measured before she allowed me closer, and even so, it took me years to earn the word friend.  I used it with her, and she’d look at me like I’d suggested something unsavory.”  Sam chuckles.  “She’s so young and so fierce.  I’m sure that look has turned many people away, but I have my own glaring kid.  I’m not so easily intimidated.”

“Lena Luthor, the glaring kid?”

“Okay, more like glaring little sister, but you get my point.  You have Kara who is all sunshine and bubblegum.  You and Kara had good parents.  Kara was raised by your mother and father.  Imagine if she’d been adopted by the Luthors instead?”

Alex barely suppresses a shudder and instead says, “Lena seems to have warmed up to Kara readily enough.”

“Yeah, I think that’s just Kara’s magic with people.  Though for the record, I think you’re pretty magical too.”

Alex becomes entranced by her coffee container, her thumb flicking at the edge of the plastic lid enough times that it begins to hold a slightly upturned shape.  “So, how’s Ruby?” She finally asks when her courage returns, and she meets Sam’s gaze again.

“Good, she’s good.”  Sam’s smile is gentle.  Something has shifted now.  Sam has shifted slightly, leaning away, though her body language is still open and her face searching.  “She, uh, she misses her Aunt Alex.  I don’t know what you two got up to in your adventures in babysitting, but she keeps asking when she’s going to see you again.”

“Yeah?” Alex sits up promptly.  “I mean, I’d love to.  I’m off my crutches, back to active duty any day now.  I’m really fine, but I need to get cleared, and my doctor’s appointment isn’t for another five days.”

“The leg’s good?”  Leaning forward, Sam grasps Alex leg, squeezes, running her hand up and down the limb.

Eyes wide, Alex looks to the ceiling before looking back and patting Sam’s hand.  “It’s fine.  Promise.”

“Good.”  Again there’s that gentle smile, eyes like warm chocolate and smile oh so sweet too.  She withdraws her hand.  “Maybe you should choose another sparring partner.  It was awful seeing you hurt like that.  I...I’m so sorry you were hurt, Alex.”

“Why?  You had nothing to do with it.”

Sam opens and closes her mouth, the smile not reaching her eyes this time.  “It still hurts to see someone you care about in pain.  Be more careful with you, okay?”

Alex studies Sam for a moment, watches for what isn’t being said.  Finally she settles on, “And how are you feeling?  Any more blackouts?”

Sam laughs, a high-tight sound.  It’s unnatural for the leggy brunette.  “Are you here as my friend, doctor, or as an agent?”

Alex leans closer.  “...what?”

“Sorry.”  Sam winces.  “That sounded awful.  I’ve just been so tense lately.”

Alex nods.  “I’m your friend and a doctor, but my being in the FBI has nothing to do with this.  You get that, right?”

Sam’s gaze meets Alex’s.  Eyes scan back and forth, brown to brown again and again stretching across the intervening space, intervening moments.  Finally, Sam’s smile returns and her whole face softens, her posture relaxes.  “Maybe paranoia is the next symptom in...joking.  I haven’t had any more blackouts.  I think it was just stress.”

“Well, that’s great.  Maybe—”  Alex’s phone rings, and she holds up a finger to excuse herself as she pulls it out of her pocket.  She nearly answers it before she sees who’s calling.  Her thumb stays frozen over the slider, one motion and history will rush back at her like the swell of a wave.  She isn’t even breathing.

“Are you all right?”

Alex startles, looks up at Sam.  “Yeah, I...It’s just a butt dial.”

“A butt dial.”

Alex nods.

Sam’s gaze drifts to the phone, and then her hand reaches out to cover Alex’s, giving a gentle squeeze.  She says the one word that sits there.  “Maggie.”

“It’s a butt dial,” Alex repeats.  “She wouldn’t be calling me.”

“Are you sure because—” The phone stops ringing.

Alex smiles, but there’s no joy in it. “See? A butt dial. That’s all it was.”

Sam doesn’t let go of Alex’s hand though, and Alex makes no attempt to pull away.  They talk about nothing for a few minutes, about Ruby, Kara, Sam’s work, Catco under Lena’s leadership, anything but Sam’s health and the cellphone they’re both holding, and then it buzzes again, ‘Voicemail’

Sam’s the first to voice the question.  “Do butt dials leave voicemails?”

“Uh, yeah, sometimes if...It’s probably just background noise.”

Sam nods, buts it’s acceptance of an excuse not agreement.  They both know it.  Their coffees grow cold, and Alex leaves soon afterwards with a promise that they’ll have dinner, and a reminder that Ruby misses her Cool Aunt Alex.

Alex’s heart is hammering by the time she’s in the elevator.  She unlocks her phone and goes to missed calls.  There it is...a voicemail.  It’s not the full length of a voicemail message if someone had just let it run without noticing.  Alex runs her hand through her hair and swallows hard.  Hand shaking, she pushes down on the button and puts the phone to her ear.  A second later, Maggie Sawyer begins to speak.

_“Alex, hi it’s...Well, if you haven’t deleted my number, you already know who this is, Danvers.  You didn’t pick up though so...whatever.  Anyway, it’s me.  It’s Maggie.  Look, sorry for calling, but I need help.  Technically, a friend needs help.  There are folks in trouble, and a friend was going to help but...it’s a bit complicated, and I don’t want to leave it all in a voicemail.  I know you and I aren’t really talking right now, but this is just a professional call, colleague to colleague.  Please, call me back.  Some folks are in trouble.  Thanks...uh...hope you’re doing okay because...yeah.  Just...call me.  That’s it.  Thanks.”_

The phone clutched to her chest, Alex stands leaning back against the elevator.  That voice is like a time machine, and barely healed wounds rip wide open again.  She wants a drink.  She wants all the drinks.  Instead, Alex heads to her car, sits down, and cries.  It’s not a choice.  She’s shed many a tear over Maggie Sawyer, and it never was.  She expects it never will be.

It’s nearly twenty minutes later when, with a red nose and a dull throbbing behind her eyes, Alex is finally able to hit redial.  It only rings once, but there’s silence on the other end.

“Um...hello?”

 _“Danvers,”_ Maggie replies.

Just that one word hits Alex like a brick.  Your last name shouldn’t be more intimate than your first but it is...it is…

_“Thanks for calling me back.”_

“Yeah, well, I figured you wouldn’t be calling if it weren’t important.  It’s not like when we used to...We don’t exactly chat and...This is just colleague to colleague, like you said anyway so…” Start and stop, start and stop, start and stop.  As easy as this all once was, that’s how hard it’s become.  “Sorry I missed your call before.  I was in a meeting.”

_“Happens.”_

“Yeah, it happens.”

_“So, you good?”_

Colleague to colleague.  Alex licks her lips.  “You mentioned people were in trouble.”

Several breaths come across the line without a response.   _“I...did.  I’ve got this friend.  She pulled me into something out here because she needed someone she could trust.  She thinks some of the cops are on the take and —”_

“What!?”

_“Chill your tits, okay?  Let me finish my story.”_

Despite it all, Alex chuckles.  “Sorry.  Continue.”

 _“Thank you.”_  Now there’s a hint of a smile in Maggie’s voice too.   _“Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted?”_

“Between cops on the take and my chill tits.”

 _“Huh.  Right.”_  Maggie clears her throat, but the smile obviously remains.   _“So, as the paragon of virtue that I am, I’m pulled in to go undercover.”_

“Paragon of virtue?”

_“We’re never gonna get through this at this rate.  Did you always interrupt this much?”_

“Yes.”

_“ **Anyway** , I’ve got this undercover persona going, and my friend is working with me, kind of overseeing the whole operation. This thing was supposed to be done last week, but there was an issue with customs and the...shipment. It’s run into the holidays and—”_

“What holidays?”

_“It’s Passover.”_

“Duh, right.  I feel like an idiot.  Go on.”

_“Heh.  I’m going to let that one slide on account of your tits being so chill.”_

Alex shakes her head as her smile grows.  How quickly they go back to this, the easy banter, the poorly concealed flirting.  They’re dancing through a minefield.  It’s a dangerous game.  They should stop.  From deep within her chest, Alex releases a heavy breath as her lips curl up a bit more.  “You’re a gentlewoman and a scholar.”

 _“And a paragon of virtue,”_ Maggie reminds. _“Anywho, my friend is Jewish, and she can’t do servile work.  I mean, she’s willing to break that to help these kids because they come first, but she’s really religious.  I told her I knew someone who could cover for her.  I knew someone who could play the part and had the skills to get this done.”_  There’s a pause, and when Maggie speaks again, there’s more than a smile in her voice.  You can almost hear the dimples.  _“Don’t make a liar out of me, Danvers.”_

Alex chuckles.  “Well, I’d hate to do that.  I mean, you were an awful pool player, but at least you were an honest cop.”

_“Hey!  I’m a good pool player!”_

“Sure, sure.  You keep saying that, Sawyer.  Tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night.”  Alex is smiling readily back.  It’s easy right now, in this moment.  This conversation is like a time machine, and she’s standing in circa winter of 2017.  Her heart isn’t broken.  She didn’t tear it out of her own chest and stomp on it.  She hasn’t compared pictures of the future with this woman and found the lack of parity, the imbalance that would cause her to shatter the first true happiness she’s ever known.  All of that buzzes around in the back of her head, but Alex ignores it and smiles, chuckles once more at Maggie’s annoyed grumbles.  It’s the winter of 2017, and potential still exists.

 _“I can still beat your ass in darts,”_ Maggie finally says.

It’s Alex’s turn to take in every word, every consonant, every vowel, to surround that sentence and drink it in, make it part of herself before responding.  “Well, you always have been good with your hands.”

There’s a hitch to Maggie’s breathing.  It’s not quite a gasp, but that comment doesn’t slide by unnoticed.   _“...yeah.”_  Noncommittal yet commenting at the same time.  There’s a thickness to her breathing now, heavy with things unsaid, and one can almost hear the gears racing.  Maggie Sawyer has always been that way, small but not inconsequential, someone who was good at sitting still but who was never inactive.  That’s how she seems now even through the phone, quiet, inert, and yet not passive.  She clears her throat. _“Anyway, I’d love to read you in, Danvers.  Are you interested?  I can give you the high-level overview first, but I don’t want to waste either of our time if you can’t work with —”_

“I can,” Alex assures her...herself?  “You mentioned kids in trouble.”

_“White slavery.”_

“Motherfucker.”

That garners a small chuckle though it’s forced.  This is no laughing matter, nothing here really is, but Maggie’s spent a lifetime pushing forward with a smile.  Dimples really are just a depression in your face, and Maggie Sawyer is an expert in depression.  _“You kiss Eliza with that mouth?”_

“It’s the only one I have.  You need help stopping what, slavers?  Yeah, I’m fucking in.  They’re after kids?”

_“They’ve got some.  I’ve got a line on them.  I’m set up as...You know what?  This isn’t a great phone conversation.  Care to meet me in Gotham?”_

“You’re in Gotham?”

_“That’s where the party is, and you just got an invitation.  You coming?”_

‘I’m breathing hard,’ is quickly stifled.  “Sure.  Should I wear my best dress?”

The smile is back in Maggie’s voice.   _“I’ll provide formal wear.  I’ll text you details.  See you soon, Danvers.”_

“Yeah...yeah...See you soon, Sawyer.”  They disconnect, and Alex lets out a breath so big she slumps against the steering and her legs shake even though she’s sitting.  Maggie Sawyer, she’s going to see Maggie Sawyer...but it’s just about work...riiggghhhhttttt.


	2. The Lesbian Trifecta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex goes to Gotham.

Alex disembarks the airplane in Gotham already aware of the chill in the air.  This isn’t the west coast, and a darkness, a grit clings to every surface, even the people.  She has no intention of staying long enough to count herself among their number.  She follows a line of people who make their way through security areas to reach loved ones.  No longer can people wait at the gates, not since towers came down just across the river.  We’re stuck in an endless loop, an eternal argument between where rights overlap freedom and vice-versa.  She has a locked case full of firearms but had to take off her shoes to board the plane.  She’s not arguing.  She needs shoes and guns to do her job but...hmmm.

It isn’t motion that catches her eye, or stillness, or color, or something that shouldn’t be there, or, or, or...it’s Maggie.  Alex trips on air, or memories, or regret. 

“Get it together, Danvers,” she mutters to herself.

Maggie’s holding two styrofoam cups.  One is to her lips, the other in her hand at about waist level.  There are several seconds before Maggie’s gaze drifts left, and then the connection is made.  The cup pauses at her lips before she tips it back, taking her sip and then lowering it.  As one cup is lowered, the other raises in a salute.

Everyone knows people who don’t smile with their eyes.  Maggie’s just the opposite.  She smiles from her eyes first, and her mouth follows along right afterward.  That’s genuine.  When Maggie’s lips curl up, Alex’s center tightens.  It’s a reflex.  You do it automatically when you get punched in the gut, and Maggie’s dimples hit hard.

Alex once lived in a binary world, simple and clear-cut: right and wrong, do or don’t, pass or fail.  Her life was black and white.  Then came Maggie, and the world became a rainbow of color.  That’s a metaphor.  That’s the truth.  Once you’ve seen every color under the sun, black and white with shades of gray won’t do.  The problem is, Alex wants the rainbow, and the pot of gold too.

Alex crosses the narrow space between them, so small compared to what divides them  Her thoughts race and twist over each other threatening to spill out.  It’s a sort of internal babble as words struggle for dominance and threaten to rush out together.  She’s never felt closer to her sister.

She reaches Maggie, and everything stills.  So many options lay before her.  ‘It’s been too long.  You look great.  I miss you.  I wish I hadn’t…’  She inhales, breathes out, and says, “Hey.”

“Coffee?” Maggie replies, holding the cup in question out toward Alex.  “It’s just the way you like it.” 

Just the way she likes it...yeah.  “Thanks.”

As Alex takes the cup, Maggie nods.  “No, thank you for coming.  This is serious and...not here.  Let’s get your luggage.  We can talk in the car.  I’m sure you’ve got questions.”

“Tons,” Alex admits as she falls into step beside the shorter woman, and they head toward baggage claim.  “I’ll start with wondering why the FBI hasn’t been called in.”

“You are the FBI,” Maggie smirks over her cup.

“Smart ass.”

“Wow, you’re in my presence for like one minute and already objectifying me.”  Here come the dimples again.  “Charmer.”

“Well, you know.  It’s a Danvers thing.”

The conversation pivots.  “Kara’s been doing well.  I mean, I was worried after um...But she’s doing well.”

“You’re in touch with Kara?”

Maggie gestures to one of the many screens plastered around the airport.  “I own a TV.  Your sister, she’s pretty photogenic.”

“Oh...right.”

They stop and watch the carousel of luggage go round and round.  Alex’s bags haven’t changed, so their hands brush when they both reach for the handle of the smaller bag that contains her clothes.  Maggie pulls back, hand shoved away in her pocket for safekeeping from that point forward, and Alex is left to grab her larger and heavier bag on her own.

“Need a hand with one of those?”  Maggie gestures to the bags.

Alex opens her mouth and moves to shake her head, but two bags plus two hands plus one coffee equals...she pulls the coffee in a bit closer to her torso.  “Please.”

Before Maggie can choose, Alex grabs the larger of the bags. 

As she pulls up the handle on the smaller suitcase and wheels it after Alex, Maggie says, “You packed a lot of clothes.  How long do you think you’ll be here?”

“Oh, this one isn’t clothes.  It’s ah…” Alex’s voices dips down even as her chin does the same. “...private stuff.”

Eyebrows high, Maggie asks, “Vibrators and batteries?”

For the second time since she’s seen Maggie Sawyer again, Alex trips on nothing.  Stopping, she turns so suddenly the smaller woman nearly walks into her.  Eyes wide, Alex intensely says, “Guns and ammo.”

“Oh.”  Eyes.  Mouth.  Smile.  In that order.  Pushing up on her toes, Maggie invades Alex’s space as she whispers, “Don’t worry, Danvers.  I’ll take care of your needs.”  Then she’s outside of the border, moving away from Alex, and toward the exit.  “Come on.  Our driver awaits.”

“Heh.  Right.”  Catching up, Alex asks, “A driver?  Are you serious?”

“Have you ever known me to joke?”

“About everything all the time.”

“Hmmmm.”  Maggie nods.  “Right, you know me.  Good point.  Yeah, I’m serious.  As much as this job sucks, it has a few perks.”

“Such as?”

Maggie is on the phone, not answering Alex.  “We’re ready.  Thanks.”  Phone back in her pocket, she looks up.  “Classy lady like you deserves classy accommodations.  I’ve got you covered.”

“Oh, since when did you start classing it up?”

“Come on, Danvers.  I may just be a working stiff, but I’ve always kept the best company.”  Head nodding to the side, Maggie moves forward as the automatic door opens.  Outside, a black limousine pulls up, stops, and the driver hurries around to help them with the bags.

“Seriously?”  Alex shakes her head.  “Did you win mega-bucks?”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I lost the jackpot.”  Maggie hands off her bag and slides in without looking back.

Stunned, that’s how Alex stands there until the driver comes back for her bag.  “I’ve got it.”  By the time she’s placed her bag in the trunk and herself in the backseat with Maggie, tension isn’t lingering.  “So, we good to talk now?”

“We’re good.  So, this thing should have been done last week, but we ran into a problem at customs.”

“Customs?  What kind of problem at customs?”

“I don’t know.  If I knew that, I’d be able to find the ship.  They’re playing this really close to the vest.  I hate smart bad guys.”  Maggie grabs a folder from the seat across from them, holding it out to Alex.  When the redhead tries to take it, she holds it firmly for another moment.  “This is a little rough, okay?”

Alex nods, bracing for impact before taking ownership of the file.  She’s seen a lot in her short life.  She’s done a lot.  It takes a lot to shake Agent Alex Dan...Pictures.  They’re young, female, scared, clinging together and surrounded by armed men.  Some of these are posed, showing off the merchandise of scared young girls ripped from their families.  Kids who’ve been fed a diet of emotional abuse, physical abuse, a lifetime of trauma.  Some sick fuck out there would look at these and smile.  Every atom in Alex’s body is repulsed.

A hand on her knee applies gentle pressure, and Alex can’t help but pull away and immediately regret the reaction when Maggie withdraws even further.  It has nothing to do with the Maggie.  It has everything to do with this reality to which she’s suddenly been subjected.  It’s not that she didn’t know this sort of thing existed, but she didn’t _know_ this sort of thing existed.  That dissonance made a difference.  As these realities merge, she knows it won’t settle easily for her.  She knows something else.  No matter how horrible this makes her feel, it will be nothing compared to how these girls feel.

Snapping the folder closed, Alex’s gaze settles on Maggie’s again.  She’s resolute.  “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to impersonate someone.  Really, I just need you to stand around and be there.  You can pull it off.  You have that…presence.”  There’s that smile again.

“I look like her?”

“Ah...it will be dark.”

They take the ride over to an odd building.  It’s glass, more like a squared-archway.  It has two sides and a top, and a giant tree grows up through the middle and through the top of the building.  There’s a big fountain in the front of the building and smaller trees all around.  It’s almost like a park in the middle of the city.  When the limo pulls to a stop in front of the building, Alex just shrugs.  This makes sense.

“Your benefactor?”

“Friend,” Maggie corrects.  “She’s a friend with similar goals.  You’ll like her.  You two have a lot in common.”

“Like?”

Maggie just grins across the top of the limo and damn it if it isn’t just as charming as always.  All these months and that smile hasn’t lost any of its wattage.

They take the elevator up, Alex’s luggage accompanying them on the journey to the penthouse.  Alex hasn’t been to Lena Luthor’s house place, but Kara has told her stories.  They involve a lot of arm waving and wide eyes, though to be fair, that’s Kara’s reaction when the pizza guy shows up too.  This place is opulent. 

The ceilings are high, the windows run from floor to ceiling, the furniture is light leather, and the rugs are thick enough to sink your fingers down to the last knuckle.   There are some fancy art pieces strewn about, the kind rich people would bid over at a charity function with paddles, but Alex couldn’t tell them from a kindergarten art show.  There’s a spiral staircase to another floor because that’s what every penthouse needs more penthouse.  Through one of the glass window displays a pool is visible.  Alex pauses at the doorway, not sure if it’s okay to enter or at least looking for a place to take off her shoes.

“Honey, we’re home!” Maggie calls out with a laugh when they’re in the living room.

Alex’s head turns at that just a bit too sharply.  Maggie jokes a lot.  It’s a joke.  It’s funny.  Alex isn’t laughing.

“Hey, babe.”  The redhead is tall, pale, athletic, sultry, stunning.  She smiles over at Maggie before her gaze falls on Alex.  “I see you brought company.  This the...your friend?”  She knows who Alex is.

“This is Alex Danvers.  She’s with the FBI.”

“Yeah, you mentioned she knows how to handle herself.”  She offers a hand.  “Kate Kane.  Thanks for coming out to help us.”

“It’s a good cause.”  Firm grip, calluses, green eyes, and a wicked smile.

“It is,” Kate agrees.  She walks around the room. “How much you tell her, babe?”

“I gave her the overview, but not her part.”

Kate nods and begins to walk a circle around Alex.  It’s more of a stalking motion as one redhead appraises the other.  Apparently approving, Kate’s smile grows.  “Well, she’s the right height, my general size, holds herself well...nice ass.”

When Alex turns, Kate is smirking again.  Then Kate winks and oh...oh!  They have more in common than the features Kate listed out.  Alex’s jealousy moves to the justified column.

“Can she fight?”

“Babe.”  Maggie just has this way of saying that word.  It means yes.  It means how could you ask.  It means I’m insulted.  It means I’m the best lay you’ve ever had or will have.

Alex clears her throat.  “Care to try me?”

“That’s a loaded question.”  Kate’s lips curl up into a smile.  “Maybe later.  For now, let’s just go over mission details.  Drinks, food?  What can I get you, ladies?”

“I’ll take a drink if we’re not going to work tonight.”

“Tomorrow,” Maggie informs.  “Grab me my usual.  Alex would love a whiskey.”

“You got it.”

Drinks are served, and Alex says, “Okay, so tell me about this...Oh, my God, this is smooth!  What kind of whiskey is this?”

“It’s a fifty-year-old Highland Park,” Kate said.  “You’re a whiskey girl, huh?”

“Yeah, but nothing like this.  This is...damn.  It’s spicy but goes down easy.”  Alex shoots Maggie a look.  “Don’t snicker.  I hear you snickering.”

“Sorry.”  She doesn’t look it.  “It sounds like you.”

“Bitch.”  Alex smiles.  “I’ve never tasted a whiskey like this.  I can’t afford it, can I?”

Tipping back her own glass and taking a sip, Kate doesn’t answer.  “There were only 275 bottles ever made.  I’ll send you home with a bottle.”

“Oh, no.  I couldn’t possibly--”

“You’re doing me a huge favor, and you don’t even know me.  You’re saving lives.  It’s just whiskey.”

There’s no arguing with that.  “Thanks.”

“Thank you.” 

When Kate raises her glass, Alex returns the gesture.

“So, someone fill me in on my part.  I understand why we’re doing this, and I’m on board.  What do you need me to do to make this happen?”

“Stand around and look imposing.”

Alex frowns and looks to Maggie for confirmation.

The cop nods, takes a swig of her beer.

“Okay, well badass agent I can do but...I need to look like you?”

“We have an informant who’s squirrelly.  She knows me, trusts I’ll take care of things.  If I don’t show up, she’ll bolt, and we need her to get this all done.”

“Okay.”  Alex nods slowly, not really understanding even though some of the mist is receding.  “Why you?  No offense.  I mean, you look like you can handle yourself, but you’re not exactly…”  The gesture Alex makes is vague.

Kate’s smile only grows.  Sitting on the arms of the couch, she leans in.  “Babe, I’m all that and more.”

Oh, yeah.  Even Alex’s baby gaydar is pinging away.

“You ever work with any superhero types?”

Kate’s question is so startling, Alex nearly spills her whiskey even though it’s not filled near the top of the glass.  She turns her head sharply toward Maggie.  “What did you tell her?”

“What did I say about chilling your tits?  Relax.  You trust me, right?”

“I…”  One nod, resolute, definitive.  However big the chasm between them is, that still connects.

“Thanks, Danvers.”  Those damn dimples.  “She’s had some experience in her fieldwork with the FBI.”

Alex looks at Kate again, waiting for what comes next.

“Follow me,” Kate says rising from the arm of the couch and leading the way.  “It’s show and tell time.”

The body of the costume is black.  The cape is too but with a red interior.  The gloves and boots are red.  The belt...utility belt?  Yup, it’s a utility belt, that’s red too.  The mask is black, and it would cover the nose, cheekbones, and rise high in points above the head.  On the front of the costume, above the breasts, is a symbol in red.  It’s a bat.

Alex scratches behind her ear.  “Oh, those superhero types.”  She looks at Kate.  “What size boots do you wear?”

Kate’s smile is enormous as she looks at Maggie.  “When you said she’d take it in stride, I didn’t think you meant literally.”

“Danvers here works in the ‘Weird Shit’ division for the FBI.”

“Weird shit division?”  That grin doesn’t know when to give up.  “It says that on your badge?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what my badge says.”  Alex throws her smile into the fray.  Reaching out, she touches the costume and her brows furrow.  “Bulletproof?”

“Of course.”

Pulling out a butterfly knife, Alex flips it open.  “May I?”

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

“Heh.  Nice.”  Holding the top of the material away from the mannequin underneath, Alex stabs it with some forces.  She flips the knife closed, and using both hands she examines the material again.  “It feels layered but…”

“It’s a sheer material.  As it’s subjected to stress, it hardens.  It has its limits, but for most everyday things, the harder I get hit, the harder it gets, yet it’s supple enough for combat and acrobatics.”

“Really?!” Eyebrows up, Alex regards Kate and then the costume again.  “I think I love you.”

“Who are you talking to, me or my suit?”

Still examining the costume, Alex shrugs.  “You know...whatever.”

Kate rolls her head to the side, a leering smile matching the expression in her eyes as she looks at Maggie.  “Babe, she, you two, make so much sense now.”

Beer bottle paused at her lips, Maggie’s dimples make an appearance.

Either ignoring the conversation going on behind her or not truly aware of it, Alex turns and asks, “So I’m supposed to stand around in this thing and that will get some kidnapped girls back?”

“Well…”  Kate’s eyes look skyward for a moment.  “That and the quarter-million-dollars Maggie will be handing off.”

Alex’s eyebrows seem to be trying to go where Kate’s eyes were leading.  “Oh...well, now I’m sure I couldn’t afford that whiskey.”

“Come on.  Let’s go drink some stupidly expensive whiskey and discuss the plan in details.  We’ll fill you in on the background.  You like a good steak?”

“I love a good steak.”  Alex’s reply is instantaneous.

“Maggie doesn’t.”

“Maggie has to have one flaw.”  As her gaze falls on Maggie’s profile, and the day the detective left comes rushing back in, Alex’s heart squeezes.  It’s not a flaw.  It’s a difference.  It’s an insurmountable difference.  It’s not about who Maggie is.  It’s about who Alex wants to be.

“That’s a damn lie.  I’m perfect,” Maggie laughs out.  When her gaze meets Alex’s, her face freezes.  It doesn’t take long for understanding to dawn.  There’s only one pain point between them, but it’s still agony.  A smile returns, but even though it’s on Maggie’s face, it’s not Maggie’s smile.

Alex doesn’t even try.


	3. Tagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Maggie meet Maggie's contact. Everything goes to shit. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

“Where is she? She’s supposed to be here.” 

She has an accent, not as thick as some but thicker than others, and Slavic.  You can’t cut it with a knife, but you can eat it with a spoon.  The girl is young, maybe fifteen or sixteen, blonde and fairly pale.  She’s tall, several inches taller than Maggie, as she paces about nervously in the warehouse, but still young.  She’s wearing a turtleneck that’s barely visible under her hoodie, jeans, an old pair of Nikes, and a glove on just one hand.  There’s a beat-up backpack on her back, and in the gloved hand is a bottle of spray paint that she shakes about nervously.  It’s a habit.

“Tagger, relax.  She’ll be here.” Maggie promises for the...she’s lost count of the number of times she’s said it.

Maggie isn’t wearing her usual blue windbreaker or even discount blazer and slacks.  Normally, she’s not exactly the definition of upper middle class...buying your clothes full price.  She’s a middle-class girl now.  Buy your stuff with coupons, grab things from the discount rack, and end of season closeouts are her friends.  Tonight, though, Maggie Sawyer is playing a role that’s been carefully crafted for her, and that role includes costuming.  Her suit is Versace, dark gray with white pinstripes, and it might make her look just a touch taller.  The boots definitely do with their three-inch heels, though they’re chunky and the base stands an inch off the ground, so it isn’t too uncomfortable.  They did take some getting used to.  Her watch says Rolex, and it didn’t ‘fall off the back of a truck’.  She’s wearing a necklace that is probably worth more than her 401k, though that may not be saying much.  Maggie doesn’t remember if the coat she’s wearing is mohair, alpaca or...for all she knows it could be knit together from millions of dwarf hamsters.  It’s softer than anything she’s actually owned, and it’s stopping the Gotham wind that can turn your tits into glass cutters in about 3.5 seconds, so she approves.

“What if she doesn’t show?  What if there was an emergency at Arkham or something, and she left us to deal with this?  What if--”

“Kid!”  A hand on each of Tagger’s shoulders to still the movement, Maggie looks the teen directly in the eyes.  “She’ll be here.  She promised.  Has she let us down yet?”

“No but…” When Maggie nods, Tagger finds herself nodding along.  “Okay, okay.  She’ll be here.  She’ll be here.  She better be here.  We can’t do this without her.”

“You know I know what I’m doing, right?”

“Yeah, sure.  You’re good.  You’re really good, but you’re not her.”

Suppressing an eye roll, Maggie looks away and taps at her earpiece as she whispers, “You getting this?”

 _“Yes, I’m amazing.”_ The amusement in Alex's voice is clear.

“She’s talking about Kate, but...yeah.”

There are several beats of silence.  “I’m just finishing my perimeter check.  Try to keep the kid from bolting.  I’ll be down in two minutes.”

With a slight nod of her head, Maggie flashes her dimples at Tagger.  “I bet she’s just doing a quick check of the area, kid, making sure everything is secure.  Nothing to worry about.”

Squeezing the back of her neck, Tagger nods while she shifts from foot to foot.

“Hey, how about we go over the plan one more time?” Maggie suggests.  “Let’s just make sure we’re both set on our parts.”

“Yeah, but...okay.” Tagger takes a deep breath, shaking the spray paint in her hand a few times as she releases some of the tension in her body.  “So, once I know we have backup, I’ll call my contact to confirm we’re ready.  They’ll give me the meeting locations, and I’ll give them to you.  You’ll send the pickup location to your people, and you and I will go to the drop off location.  We’ll...She’s going with us, right?”

“Kid...Yes, she’s going with us.  She’s staying out of sight, but she’s going with us.  Now, what happens next?”

“Cool, cool.  Okay, so we’re going to be dropping off the money for our part of the exchange while your people will pick up the girls.  You’ve got the money?”

Maggie grins.  “Nope.”

Eyes wide, Tagger pales.  “What do you mean no!?  If we don’t bring the money, they won’t release the girls!”

Maggie’s smile grows.  “And they’ll kill us.”

“And they’ll kill us!  Why are you smiling!?”

“Because you’re cute, kid.  Relax.  I said I didn’t have the money, not that it wouldn’t be at the exchange site.  If I had it, they could pick it off too easily.  Then they would kill us.  It will be there.  Trust me.”  She winks.

“You mean…?”  Calming, Tagger looks around and above her.

“Hey, hey!”  Slapping Tagger on the arm, Maggie ticks her chin up.  “I mean trust me and relax.  I got us this far, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess.  You really know what you’re doing, right?”

“I found you, found out about what’s been going on.  I set this all up.”

“And you brought her in.”  Calming, Tagger nods.  “Yeah, I can’t believe you know her.”

“Kid, you wouldn’t believe the contacts I have.  She was the right one for this job.  Information is what I do best, and right now that means going over the plan.  So, we do the money handoff and…?”  Maggie stops, leading, waiting for Tagger to follow.

“Uh...your people will be picking up the cargo,” Tagger says, bouncing on the balls of her feet a bit.  “We get back in our vehicle, and everyone lives happily ever after?”

“Happily ever after,” Maggie agrees, patting Tagger on the cheek.  “Now just relax.  That’s the plan just like we practiced.  Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not.”  Tagger wipes sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.  “I just haven’t seen her, that’s all.”

“You sure?  You’re acting…”  Maggie squints, taking a step closer to the teen and gripping her wrist.  “Tagger, you and me, we shoot straight with each other.  We have each other’s back.  If there’s anything you need to tell me—”

A shadow grows above them and moves off to the side, causing Maggie and Tagger to turn and follow, as someone drops down nearly soundlessly from above.  In a black and red costume, her cape billowing behind her before settling in, Alex crouches.  She pushes smoothly to her feet, her eyes scanning her surroundings before she knocks a nod at Maggie.

When Alex speaks, her voice is a hush.  “The area is clear.”

“Batwoman.”  Tagger rushes over to Alex.  “I was worried you wouldn’t show up.”

Instead of responding, Alex looks at Maggie.

“I know.  I told her.”  Maggie shrugs and strolls over to Alex.  “I think the kid was knocking down the Red Bulls before she showed up.  She’s jittery as hell.”

Alex studies Tagger, the girl’s tension, nervous tics, glistening along the teen’s forehead.  As much as Alex is a study in serenity, Tagger is barely contained motion.  The redhead’s gaze skims to Maggie, the detective being somewhere in between as always.  Long ago Maggie became comfortable in her own skin and she wears it well.  A little smile comes out as if to say, ‘Do something here.’ and Alex nods once ever so slightly.  Alex is no Maggie.  This suit, this costume, it feels more comfortable in a few minutes than dress down clothes have for months.  Alex doesn’t know how to be herself now that she’s alone.  An Agent, a Hero, those she can be, but being Alex Danvers an out and proud lesbian without Maggie Sawyer, that’s her real identity, and she’s still stepping into it.

“Don’t drink those energy drinks.  You’ll give yourself a heart attack,” Alex says, clapping Tagger on the shoulder.  “I’m here.  Don’t you have a call to make?”

“Uh...yeah.  Yeah.”  Fumbling as she pulls the phone out of her pocket, Tagger begins to unlock it as her fingers stumble through the code.

At Maggie’s gesture, Alex walks several feet away to join the shorter woman.  “Problem?”

“Not sure,” Maggie admits, her gaze resting heavily on Tagger who’s making a call.  “She’s always high strung, but this is weird even for her.  It could just be because this is the endgame, but…”

“But your gut is talking to you.  Mags, your gut is smarter than most people’s brains.  We call this off.”  As Alex turns, Maggie grabs her arm.

“Alex, those kids…” Maggie frowns, her face turning down and away while she considers.  Finally, squaring her shoulders, she looks Alex dead in the eye again.  “We go forward with the plan.”

“Mags, no.  If she isn’t solid—”

“This is my mission, Alex.  You were brought in to assist, but it’s my mission.  It’s my call.  Take your position.”

Scowling, Alex shakes her head once, sharply.  “I’m not going to let you do something stupid that could get you hurt.”

“Not your call,” Maggie repeats as she steps to move by Alex.  “Take your position.”

“Hey!”  Alex grabs Maggie’s wrist, pulling her close and whispering, “I care about you.  I don’t want—”

“Also not your call.”  Maggie’s voice is low but sharp.  It’s a harsh reminder, and it’s the first time Maggie’s allowed what’s between them to eke out.  She stares Alex down until the other woman lets her go.  “Now, take your position.”

Blinking, mouth opening and closing several times, Alex finally closes her eyes and nods.  The argument she wants to have isn’t with Maggie, isn’t with herself, it’s with the universe, and she’s already lost it.  She pulls the grappling hook from her belt, shooting it off to a nearby building, then turns back to Maggie, watching the detective as she presses the button and allows the device to pull her away.  Once again, Maggie was so close, but then suddenly out of grasp.

As Alex streaks away, Maggie swallows hard before turning to Tagger.  “We all set?”

Tagger’s eyes are as big as saucers.  “Something going on with you two?”

“Professional discourse.  It happens.  I caught her cheating at cards.  Don’t ever gamble with anyone in a mask.”  Maggie grins, suddenly all confidence again.  “So, you have the meeting locations?”

“Yeah, yeah.  She’ll be following us?”

Smile growing, dimples showing, Maggie says, “Kid, I wouldn’t go anywhere without my shadow.”

The drive down to the docks takes maybe twenty minutes, but about ten minutes in Maggie shuts off the radio to stop Tagger’s constant changing of stations.  It leaves Tagger to jiggle her spray can around in her hand and drum on the dash.

“Want to get out and walk?” Maggie eventually asks.

Tagger smiles over at the detective, but it isn’t with humor, it’s to humor Maggie.  The teen stills for thirty seconds tops then returns to her array of fidgeting hobbies.  Maggie’s loud sighs do nothing to dissuade her from these actions.  When they pull up at the waterfront and up to the car waiting at the docks, Tagger and Maggie exit their vehicle about forty feet away from the other one.

“Where is she?” Tagger asks, her head twitching left and right as her eyes look up.  “I don’t see her.”

Maggie elbows the teen hard in the arm, sending the younger but taller girl staggering.  “Good, that means she’s doing her job.  She’s here.  She’s got eyes on us.”

_“I do.  You look good, Sawyer.  That’s no surprise, though.”_

A little bit of tension leaves Maggie’s shoulders, and she can’t help but smile a bit.  “Ahem, come on.  Let’s not keep the not nice men waiting.  We have payment to make and merchandise to take into our possession.”

“Then they’ll be safe, right?”

Maggie stops.  Grabbing Tagger’s wrist, she stares up at the girl for several seconds.  No words pass between them, but Maggie takes the teen’s measure.  Detective Maggie Sawyer wasn’t born with a lot of luck, or height, or even compassion in her life.  She has a keen intellect and good judgment.  The detective detects.

“You don’t trust me?”

“No, I do, I—” But Tagger shakes her head.

“You don’t trust me.”  This time it’s a statement.

_“Maggie?  Maggie, those guys down there are watching you.  I’ve got them in my sights.  I’m ready.”_

Scratching the back of her head, Maggie raises a flat hand obscured by her own skull to Alex.  The message is clear.  Do nothing.  “Tagger, I’ve been straight with you.  What’s going on?”

“I’m...I’m scared, and I don’t know you.”

“You think I’m not scared?”

“You never act scared.  You always act—”

“Act.”  Eyebrows raised, Maggie waits for the word to sink in.  “I don’t have time to be scared.  You don’t have time for me to be scared.  You can’t afford that.  Tonight, when this is all over, I’ll go home, drink a lot of beer, and cry.  Right now, I’ll act brave.  Tonight, you can have a root beer, but now we play it cool and get those kids away from them, understand?”

“Kids you’re buying.”

“Kids I’m saving.  You got something you want to say to me, say it before we go over there to them.”  Maggie points suddenly, squeezing Taggers arm as she does it.  “Whatever this is, we leave it right here.”

_“Mags, don’t go over there.”_

“What do you want to say to me?”

Emphatically, Tagger shakes her head.  “Nothing.”

“If we’re not—”

“I just don’t know you, and I’m scared, but we’re good.  I want to help the kids, same as you.  That’s all I want.  I just want to bring…”  Tagger pauses, her words hanging up on something for just a moment. “I just want to bring those kids home.”

_“Something’s not right, Mags.”_

Maggie stares into Tagger’s eyes and nods.  “If you’re straight with me, they’ll come home.  I promise.”

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Then trust me.”  Eyes, mouth, dimples.  Gently, Maggie squeezes Tagger’s arm before letting go.  “Come on, kid.  It’s showtime.”

_“Maggie, no.  No!  Fuck!”_

Maggie and Tagger walk toward the waiting car, leaving one frustrated witness several buildings away.  Alex is left with two options.  She can stay where she is, the bad guys in her sites and someone she loves in danger, or she can move in now and kidnapped children won’t be saved tonight.  Caught in the middle of an impossible situation, Alex does what she always does.  She makes an impossible choice and watches the woman she loves walk away.

There are four guys, all packing, and Maggie grins broadly as she and Tagger reach them.  “Wow, quite the welcoming committee.  You boys really know how to make a lady feel special.”

“Quit it, Martinez,” one of the men snaps, his eyes scanning her form.  “You don’t have the money.”

“Oh, crap.  I must have left my wallet in my car.”  She pats her pockets.  “Will you guys take a personal check?  You don’t need to see ID, right?”

They all pull out pistols, one of them pointing it at Maggie.  “I should blow your head off.”

A red laser light appears in the middle of his forehead making Maggie grin.  “You won’t get the chance.  Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way, why don’t you boys put your weapons away, and I’m going to call my folks and make sure everything is going on okay on that end.”

“You don’t get the girls until we get paid.  That’s the deal,” the one that drew on Maggie says, but he’s holstering his weapon.  They all are.

“Yeah, yeah.  You gotta be in it to win it.”  Maggie turns her back on the thugs and pulls out her cellphone, making a call.  It only rings once.

_“Hey, Martinez.  You at the meet?”_

Maggie struggles a bit when she hears Bruce’s voice from the other end of the line, but she keeps her smile in check.  “Yeah, we’re with four very personable gentlemen here.  You folks all ready to take delivery of the merchandise?”

_“On your order, Ma’am.”_

Nodding, Maggie turns back to the guys who pulled weapons on her earlier as she speaks into her phone.  “Okay, we’re going to make payment now.  I’m going to stay on the line with you, but if I don’t hear the expected code phrase from you, something went wrong.”

 _“Yes, Ma’am.  Same in return,”_ Bruce says.

Alex’s voice chirps in Maggie’s ear.  _“I’m making the drop now.”_

In less than a minute, people become aware of an electronic noise above them.  Everyone but Maggie looks up.

When the thugs prepare to draw their weapons again, Maggie says, “Relax, boys, that’s your payment.  Don’t shoot it down.  It’s expensive.”

“What the hell is that?” Tagger asks.

“Expensive toys for expensive boys...or in this case girls,” Maggie explains.

About forty feet above the group, a drone hovers.  It slowly lowers to about fifteen feet, and Maggie holds out her arms.

 _“This thing is great,”_ Alex says with far too much enthusiasm. _“You think Kate will let me have this too?”_

“Let it go,” Maggie replies flatly.

 _“Spoilsport.”_  

But about two seconds later, the bag drops down into Maggie’s waiting arms.  It’s a direct hit.  The detective grunts slightly at the impact.  A quarter of a million dollars in twenties weighs about twenty-eight pounds, and that’s a hefty weight dropped from above.  Maggie drops the bag to the ground, unzipping it to expose the contents before taking a step back.

The man who’s been trouble all along glances in the bag and says, “Looks light.”

“Looks light,” Maggie scoffs.  “What the fuck do you know, dickwad?  How often have you carried around 250 grand?  Looks light.  You’re a fucking joke.  I’m tired of dealing with your stooges.  Get your boss on the phone.  Amateur hour is over.”

The guy shrugs.  “That won’t be necessary.  We’re good.”  As he reaches for the cash, a bullet connects with the ground less than an inch from his foot.

“Call your people.  Tell them payment is here, and we want visual confirmation on the cargo...now!”  Maggie glares at the man, her patience clearly wearing thin.

Next to her, Tagger’s spray can tempo doubles in speed in the teen’s hand.

“Yeah, sure.”

As the man reaches into his pocket, Maggie says, “Use two fingers.”

As if to accent the point and encourage his action, a laser light appears on the man right around groin level.  It does the trick. 

Maggie waits until she gets the go-ahead from Bruce through the phone, the code indicating the girls they’re there to rescue are present, before nodding to the men across from her and backing away.  “It was not a pleasure doing business with you guys.  Take your fucking payment, and let your men know it’s time to hand over the merchandise.  Try anything funny, and I promise none of you will leave these docks.”  Hand on Tagger’s arm, she backs up with the teen next to her while speaking into the cellphone.  “Payment is made, and we’re getting ready to move out.  Code word is…”  Maggie hesitates.

_“Martinez?”_

“Uh…” She swallows hard.  “Code word is...Sanvers.”  When Alex’s breath hitches and breaks over the open mic in her ear, Maggie winces.  She’s in the car, the cellphone still to her ear as she listens to her people taking charge of the girls at the other end before Alex speaks.

_“What the hell was that, Mags?”_

“You weren’t supposed to be here.  We needed to pick a word no one would guess, and we wouldn’t forget.  You weren’t supposed to be here.”

_“You couldn’t have changed it?”_

“I forgot!  I mean...Fuck you, Alex!  You dumped me, not the other way around.  Fuck you!  I wanted to marry you.  I wanted forever with you and...fuck!”  Pulling out her earpiece, Maggie slaps it to the car’s dash.  Running her hand through her hair, she sits breathing in the silence.

That silence is broken when Tagger speaks.  “Were you engaged to Batwoman?”

With those words, Maggie lets out a choking laugh.  “Oh my God, kid.”

“Is Batwoman’s real name Alex?”

Looking at the teen, Maggie shakes her head.  “Asking questions like that gets a kid like you killed.  You know that, don’t you?  Now just forget everything you just—”

 _“Martinez.”_   Maggie’s attention is immediately drawn back to the cellphone.  _“We have the cargo and are ready to move out.  Code word: Pennyworth.”_

“Okay, see you back at the ranch,” Maggie says as she disconnects the call.  Starting her car, she puts it into reverse.  “Tagger, good work tonight.  You were a jumpy mess.  I was worried about you, kid, but you held it together.  A lot of kids are going to get back to their families because of this.”

They turn the car around and head away from the docks.  It’s quiet in the car for nearly a minute before Tagger asks, “Are they?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are they going to get home to their families, these kids?”

Maggie glances over at the teen twice, her gaze reverting to the dark road ahead each time.  “Of course, they are.  Why would you ask me that?”

Tossing her bag into the back seat, Tagger twists so that she can look head-on at Maggie.  “I know who you are.”

“Oh, and who is that?”

“Luciana Valeria Martinez.  You’re number three in the Martinez family.  Your people run guns and drugs throughout all of Florida.  Thing I don’t know is what you’re doing this far north or when you people got into dealing kids.”

Maggie grips the wheel a little tighter, her wrists bending even as she stretches out her neck.  “Who you been talking to, kid?”

“You’re not denying it.”

“I asked you a question.  That’s a lot of information for a punk like you to have gotten off the streets.  Someone dropped that name on you.”  Maggie turns her head suddenly, glaring at the teen.  “Who was it?”

Even while shrinking under Maggie’s gaze, Tagger’s jaw tightens as her resolve sets.  “What are you planning on doing with those kids?”

She’s watching the road again now, though out of necessity not choice.  Maggie would prefer to pull over and shake some truth out of and sense into the kid next to her.  That can’t happen though.  They had a carefully laid plan, and it’s seeming more and more like something went awry.

Deep breath in, deep breath out, Maggie is outwardly fairly calm when she replies, “I’m planning on doing exactly what I told you.  I’m planning on getting them home to their families.  Now you answer my question.”

Tagger turns in her seat again, shoulders tucked and hands folded together.  Her body language is an apology though it’s not clear why.  It’s clear she feels guilty for something.  From here it’s about getting down to details.

“Look, kid, I don’t know who you talked to about me, but you’ve got it all wrong.  Let me talk to my people and see if we can’t…”  Grabbing the rearview mirror, Maggie angles it slightly as she grimaces.  Her jaw tightens, and her eyes narrow.  “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re being followed.”

“Are you sure?  Maybe—”

Maggie already has the earpiece back in her ear, tuning Tagger out and tapping the end as she tunes Alex back in.  “Hey, you read me?”

There’s a grunt, the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting a jaw and Alex’s release of air as she exhales proving she was the one who threw the punch, not on the receiving end of the strike.

“Alex, you read me?”

_“Little busy right now.  Please leave a message.”_

The engine races as Maggie, who had been holding back a bit, pushes the car forward and surges through a yellow light.  She sneers as the car behind her runs the red.  “We’re being followed.”

 _“What!?”_  There’s more heavy breathing, a scraping noises, and another grunt. _“Are you sure?”_

“I know how to do my job.  Yeah, I’m sure.  Dark, midsize sedan.  Shit.”

_“Mags?”_

“An SUV just joined in the game of follow the leader.”  Maggie downshifts, hitting the gas and break at the same time as she cuts the wheel to the right.  The car makes a sharp turn, and she corrects easily.  Behind her, the SUV can’t handle the turn as it sideswipes a parked car.  The sedan following them has to come to a complete stop to avoid hitting the SUV as it tries to get back on course.  Maggie grins.  “Where the hell are you?  I thought you were going to be tailing us?”

_“I was, but there was an assault nearby.  I had to intervene.  I tried to tell you, but someone had her panties in a twist and pulled out her earpiece.  I wonder who that was.”_

“Fuck.  Fine.”  Glancing up as they nearly fly through an intersection, sparks shooting out from under the car as they leave the uneven ground and land again, Maggie says, “We’re passing Belcher and Eighteenth.  How quickly can you get here?”

 _“I ugh!  Son of a bitch!”_   There’s a sharp crack then another, Alex’s panting breaths come quickly one after the other.  _“I have no idea where that is.  I don’t know Gotham.  I just finished the fight here though.”_

“Can you get to Kate’s bike and lock in on my signal using the GPS?”

 _“Yeah, I’m on it.”_  Slapping footsteps land almost one on top of another. _“Can you head back in my direction?”_

“Maybe.  I’m ditching the kid.”

Tagger twists back toward Maggie.  “What?”

Maggie makes another sharp turn into a schoolyard.  “This is your stop.”  The car screeches to a halt.  “Get out.”

“But...I…”

 “Out!”  Leaning across Tagger, Maggie pops the door open and shoves the teen out of the car.  “Run!”

From the ground, one arm flailing, Tagger yells back, “My bag!”

Without another word or a backwards glance, Maggie peels away.  By the time she’s on the street, the other cars are in sight of her again.

“Fuck.  Fuck.”

_“Talk to me, Mags.”_

“I’ve just got lots of company, but the kid is safe.”

_“How did you ever not see yourself as a parent?”_

Maggie turns the car sharply again as yet another vehicle comes into play cutting her off.  “Not.  Now.  Alex.”

 _“...sorry.”_   The sound of a motorcycle starting, low and heavy, purrs across the line.  _“Okay, I’ve got you on the GPS.  Babe, you’re hauling ass.”_

“Yeah, I’m feeling inspired.”

 _“You’re not moving toward me.”_   The motorcycle’s engine revs, and then the pitch goes high as the bike races. _“I’m heading toward you.”_

“Thanks.  For some reason, my dance partners don’t seem to want to let me lead.”

_“Their loss.  You’re a great dancer.  I’ve always loved the way you moved.”_

There’s a smile in Maggie’s voice to match the one painting her lips.  “Are you flirting with me, Danvers?”

_“Could you blame me?  You’re flirt-worthy.”_

“Heh.  Did you get some moves since I saw you last?”

 _“No.”_   Alex mumbles, _“Just hornier.”_

“What was that?”

_“I’m gaining on you, but you’re still moving away from me.  Any chance you can bring this little party back toward me?”_

Glancing at a construction site ahead of her, Maggie downshifts and surges through the fence.

_“What was that!?  Are you okay!?”_

“Fine, I’m fine.  I don’t think I’m getting my deposit back on this rental though.”

_“That’s a rental?”_

Maggie chuckles.  “No.  I’m telling Kate you were driving.”  As she passes big trucks and equipment, Maggie pulls out her phone and dials her last called number again.  “Hey, it’s Maggie.  We’ve hit a snag here.  I’m being pursued by a few vehicles, and Alex might have been purposefully detached from me.  I dropped the kid about a mile back, and I’m trying to loop around to get back to Alex.  Anything happening with you guys?”

 _“Not so far,”_ Bruce replies.  _“We’ll keep a lookout.  Send me your location, and I’ll have—”_

“Negative.” She turns sharply behind the shell of a building as she makes her way to the street again.  “Your job is getting those kids to safety.  Alex is heading my way.  I’ll be fine.”

_“Maggie, I can send someone to help you.”_

“Not your call.  This is Kate’s mission, and she left me in charge.  I’m making this decision.”

 _“Hold on.”_ Bruce’s voice is gruff before the line goes still.

_“Who are you talking to?”_

At Alex’s voice, Maggie startles slightly before replying, “An associate of Kate’s.”

 _“Like a...nighttime business associate?”_  There’s more than a touch of awe in Alex’s voice.

“Given who your sister is, are you really gonna get starstruck right now?  Brace for impact.”

_“What?”_

“Ugh!” There’s another smashing noise as Maggie comes through the fence and hits the street hard again.  “Okay, I’m heading back in your direction again.  I don’t see my friends, but I expect they’ll find me soon.”

 _“Maggie!”_ Bruce’s voice cuts into their discussion.  _“We’ve got some company coming our way now.”_

“Do you want me to send Alex to—?”

_“No!  I’ve got a full team here.  We’re prepared to protect the cargo.  Get yourself to safety, and we’ll connect at the rendezvous site.”_

“Fine, but if you need backup—”

_“Then I don’t deserve to watch over this city.”_

As the phone disconnects, Maggie sighs and drops it on the passenger seat.  “Just be safe, and get those kids home.”

_“That was him, wasn’t it?  That was...you know who.”_

“Yes, Alex, that was you know who.  Your sister knows him.  You know that, right?”

_“Yeah, but...wow.”_

“More wow than Superman?”

_“Uh...yeah.”_

“Weird.  So, how far off are you?  What’s your ETA?”

_“To your current location, less than five minutes.  If you keep moving toward me, I’ll see you inside of three.”_

“Well, that sounds promising.  I’m maybe a block from where I dropped off the kid.  I’m going to—”

There’s a crash, loud and ongoing.  It’s the sound of a much larger vehicle hitting a smaller one.  It’s the sound of a sedan rolling over again and again.  It’s the sound of Alex’s heart hammering against her chest.  Then there’s just the clicking sound of a turn signal, among everything else: the crash, the engine, a grunt and moan from Maggie that were lost except in hindsight.  When all else still that damn turn signal is all that remains: blink, blink, blink, blink, blink.  There’s that moment in life where if you blink you miss it, and Alex may have blinked on her moment.

“Maggie!?  Maggie!!!”  Alex is on her feet on Kate’s bike until it slows her down and makes her less stable, and then she’s tucked tight, trying to pull every last bit of motion from the machine.  “Come on.  Come on.  Maggie!!”  That damn turn signal responds.  There are some other sounds then, voices and scuffling that Alex can barely make out over her own ragged breaths.  She tries to push that all away as she urges the bike forward.  She tries to push away the dread and that inevitable feeling of despair.

It’s several minutes later, minutes she’s absolutely not counting, minutes that don’t feel like hours, minutes that don’t make her wish she could take back every minute she and Maggie have been apart these last few months...LIAR...before she comes upon the scene of the wreckage.  Wreckage is the word for it too.  Crash doesn’t do it justice.  The car is on its top, and where it was struck, it looks like the early stages of a horseshoe being formed.  If there’s an unbroken window, Alex can’t see it from where she sits frozen in place.  There are no open doors, but it’s unlikely they work anymore.  The surrounding area is a battlefield of broken glass, car parts, oil, and gasoline.  Nothing’s on fire...yet.  The driver’s seat is barren. 

At a sign of movement from the backseat, Alex has the pistol from her hip in a heartbeat and is aiming it as she approaches.  Tagger slings her backpack over one shoulder as she pulls herself free from the back window and stands, brushing a few pieces of glass off of her shoulder but freezes at the sound of a gun’s hammer being pulled back.  Slowly, she raises her hands but doesn’t turn around. 

“This is mine.  I’m not stealing it.”

“Where’s...Maggie?”  There’s a pause, a hitch between words, their heaviness equal to the weight of the situation.

As her eyes shift back and forth, Tagger tries to place the voice, but the question leaves her totally lost.  “Who?”  Suddenly, the barrel of the gun is pressed hard against the base of her skull.  “I don’t know!  I don’t know!  I don’t know who that is!  I swear it!”

“The woman who was driving that car,” Alex growls.  “Where is she?”

“Mar...Martinez?”

Grabbing Tagger’s arm, Alex spins her around causing the teen to stumble and fall.  “Maggie!  Her name is Maggie Sawyer!  What happened to her!?”

Tagger’s head is shaking, and the rest of her isn’t far behind.  “I...I don’t understand.”

“The woman who was driving that car is Detective Maggie Sawyer of the NCPD.  She’s working undercover to help save some kids taken by slavers.  Now, where is she?”

Realization crashes on Tagger about as hard as Maggie’s car did.

“I didn’t know.  I thought she was Martinez.”

Three knuckles in Alex’s free hand pop as she tightens her fist.  “What did you do?”

“I thought she was Martinez.  I didn’t know.”

“You already said that.”  Something about Alex issues a warning.  Maybe it’s her tone.  Maybe it’s the way she slides one foot forward through broken glass as her weight shifts.  Maybe it’s the way she shoves the weapon back in her holster which should look less threatening but doesn’t.  Maybe it’s the way she grabs Tagger from the ground, picking the teen up and tossing Tagger back against the upturned car.  No, it’s none of that.  It’s a look in Alex’s eyes that isn’t angry; it’s broken.  It’s a woman hanging on the edge, grasping for a reason not to let go but clearly slipping away.

“I thought she was Luciana Valeria Martinez!” Tagger raises her voice like a shield, desperate for some defense.  “She was using the name Martinez, and they showed me pictures of her and said that’s who she was.  They said she was part of some gang family out of Florida, and that if she got the kids…” 

Tagger has stopped speaking, but Alex doesn’t try and encourage anything else.  She releases the teen and walks away in one, large loop that brings her back to where she started.  When she speaks again, the calm is more unsettling than the touch of madness before.  “You sold her out.”

“I…” One nod, but it’s enough.  “I had to.”

“Fuck.” Crouched, head in her hands, Alex pushes the mask off.  Her bile rises, as she remembers how to breathe.  Panic isn’t going to bring Maggie home, and that’s what matters now.

“They have my sister.” It’s a whisper.

“...what?”

“My sister and a bunch of other kids, they have them.  They said I could get my sister back if…”  The rest is obvious.  Tagger wipes at a single tear that sneaks loose.

“They have your sister?”

A nod.

“How?”

Tagger swallows hard needing a moment before she can continue.  “They brought us to this country years ago.  We both had to work for them.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, wasn’t supposed to be forever or stuff like this but…”  She shakes her head.  “Once you’re in, you can’t get it.”

“You’re running around loose.”

“They have my sister.  They know I’ll behave.  Anyway, I’m no use to them that way.”

Alex’s brows draw down.  She’s missing something.  “What does that mean?”

“Ummm...We lost our parents in a fire.  It was bad.  I was eleven when it happened, and Danica was eight.  I carried her out but…”  In the way of pauses, it’s long, full of consideration.  Mind made up, Tagger pulls off that single glove, and then starts to roll up her sleeve as she talks.  The skin looks old, papery like it belongs to someone who’s a hundred years old.  Two of the glove’s fingers are specially stitched because the girl’s fingers fused a bit higher up on the hand.  How was that not noticeable before?  The burns run further up her arm, disappearing under the rest of the sleeve.  “The fire was bad.  She didn’t get burnt, but I’m no use to them in that way.”  With that hand, she pulls down the collar of her turtleneck.  Streaking remains of the burns can be seen.

“Jesus,” Alex whispers.

Rolling her sleeve down again, Tagger tugs to glove back on.  “About your friend, I’m sorry.  I thought she was Luciana—”

“Stop.”  Alex digs through the car and eventually comes out with Maggie’s earpiece and cellphone.  She turns off that damn blinker.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to…”  Alex shrugs, shoves the items she found into her pouch.  As a thoughtful look passes her face, she pulls the phone back out and redials the last number.  It rings several times.

 _“We’re going to be a bit late,”_ the voice says, gruff as the sound of gunfire rings in the background. _“Are you secure?”_

“Um, actually, this is Alex...Sir.”

_“Oh, hello, Alex.  Is everything all right?”_

“Actually—”

Tagger interrupts.  “I know where they took her.”

Thumb over the mouthpiece of her phone, Alex asks, “You know where they took her?”

Tagger nods.

“You’re sure?  You know where Maggie is?  If you’re fucking with me—”

“I heard some of them talking.  They said they were going to take Luciana—”

“Maggie.”

“They called her Luciana!”  When Alex doesn’t reply, Tagger continues.  “I heard them saying they were taking her to where they’re keeping the rest of the kids.  I know where that is.  I’ve followed them before.”

“You can take me.”

_“Alex!”_

She nearly drops the phone.  “Yes, Sir!”

_“What’s going on?  What’s your status?”_

“Sir, right now we’re...Maggie’s…” Her gaze wanders over to Tagger.  “We’re all set.  I’m sure Maggie will want to hear from you when your situation is secure.”

_“Fine.  I’ll check in later.”_

As the line cuts off, Alex sticks the phone into the pouch again.  “You’re taking me to her.”

“Uh…” Tagger’s gaze slides over the remains of Maggie’s car.  “It’s a long walk from here.”

“You’re riding bitch.”  Without further preamble, Alex pulls the mask back into place and takes her seat on the motorcycle again.  The kickstand is up, and she has the engine revving.  “Come on!”

“I don’t have a helmet.  That’s illegal.”

“So is selling out cops to slavers,” Alex counters.  “Now get your ass on this bike before I call Batman back.”  That does the trick.

“I can’t believe you just called Batman on the phone.  I can’t believe you took off your mask in front of me.”

“This whole night is pretty unbelievable.  Now, you give directions, and I don’t want to hear any other commentary.  We’re going to bring Maggie home.”


	4. Perfect is Closer Than You Think

Two figures lie on a rooftop studying the building across the way and keeping a watchful eye on all who move about.  The warehouse they survey stretches half a city block with vehicles parked off to one side while four guards walk the perimeter in groups of two.  Nothing from the exterior gives a clue that this is anything but a normal, high-security warehouse.  However, it’s contents aren’t crates or boxes.  No, the merchandise here is living, and the stakes are high. 

It’s a cold night in Gotham, and the red and black cloak snaps in the last of the winter breeze that refuses to surrender to Spring.  The costume is built with east coast temperatures in mind, and if Alex does feel the chill, she gives no reaction as her gaze remains on the building.  Tagger doesn’t fare as well.  Her hood is drawn tight over her head but offers slight protection from the breeze, and as each cruel wind blows, she shivers again yet never complains.  Coldness, discomfort, though not welcome are not unfamiliar to her ilk.

Alex stares through the binoculars, her attention no longer on the moving figures as she studies the access points to the building.  Part of the Batwoman standard gear, these allow up to twenty-two times magnification, night vision, UV vision, and heat detection.  With the parabolic microphone, she can zoom in on conversations hundreds of feet away.  Her trained eye and quick mind catalogue each piece of information as she prepares for the next stage of the mission.  Next to her, Tagger holds a small dome with a microphone in the middle, a wire from it leading to a set of headphones Alex was wearing.

Reaching out, Alex grabs the device in Tagger’s hand and adjusts it slightly.

“Why don’t you just hold it your—”

“Shhh!”

Tagger’s sigh is heavy, but she holds the device steadily as directed.

It’s nearly two minutes later when Alex pulls the binoculars off her face and slides the headset to hang around her neck.  “Well, Maggie’s in there somewhere.  They said they have Martinez, and they’re going to ransom her off.”

“Told you.”

“Don’t,” Alex snaps, her eyes issuing a warning at the teen.  “I know why you did it but just don’t.  You got her into this mess, now help me get her out.”

“And you’ll help me get my sister?”

Alex leans closer as she tries to choke back the anger that once again bubbles to the surface … not that it ever was very far below.  “If you had told us in the first place … yes.  Your sister and the other kids, I’ll help get them all out.  You need to work with me now though.  No more secrets.  No more lies.  We get Maggie and everyone else out, agreed?”

“Yeah, sure.  I didn’t want to sell her out even when I thought she was Martinez.  She seemed nice.  She was funny and—”

“She’s amazing.”  Alex’s gaze returns to the warehouse, but her attention is clearly divided.  It has been for months.  “She risked her ass to save a bunch of kids she never met, and she deserved better than this.”

“... I said I was sorry.”

Alex nods once.  “Tell Maggie that when we get her back.  First, we need to formulate a plan to get her and the kids out of there safely.  I’m sure they won’t hesitate to open fire on us just because we have the kids.  Maggie’s life is worth more than theirs … until they figure out who she is.  I wish we knew how many guards they had down there.”

“Twenty-seven.”

Head snapping to the side, the full weight of Alex’s attention comes to bear on Tagger.  “How do you know that?”

“They have my sister.  I’ve been casing the place.”  Tagger pulls her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it and opening her photos before offering it over to Alex.  “I’ve taken pictures of them.  Want to see?”

“Give me that.”  Alex snags the phone and begins to thumb through the photos.  She pauses partway through.  “You’ve been inside there?”

“They have my sister,” Tagger repeats with a sharp nod.  “I’ve been trying to figure out how to get her out.”

“You could have called the cops.”

“They pay the cops.  I call the cops, I die and maybe my sister dies.”  Eyes closed as she rubs at the back of her neck, Tagger shakes her head.  “I couldn’t call the cops.  I had to get her out myself.  I had to—”  When a hand grasps her upper arm, she opens her eyes.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

It’s not much, but it’s the first smile Tagger’s given Alex.  Maybe it’s the first one she’s had to give in a while.  Hope will do that for you.  “Thanks.”

“Thank me when you’ve got your sister back.”  Alex flips through the rest of the photos.  “You took some of these from what, an air vent?”

“Yeah, I can get inside through the air ventilation system.  It’s very Mission Impossible, right?”

“Heh.  I guess.  Think you can lead me through there?”

“No way.  You won’t fit.  I barely fit in a few spots.  There’s no way that your …”  Tagger leans to the side a bit, looking behind Alex.

Alex looks over her own shoulder, eyes widening before she returns to glare at Tagger.  “Did you just say my **ass** was big.”

“No, I mean … no.  You’re a lot older than me, that’s all.”

“I’m not **that** much older.”

“So-rry.  You’re grumpy.  Is it past your bedtime, grandma?”

“Hey, I’m a masked vigilante.  You are disrespecting a masked vigilante.”

“You’re an unmasked vigilante right now.”

Packing the binoculars and parabolic microphone back into her kit, Alex mumbles, “Boy are you going to be disappointed.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.  So, I need you to get me in there.  What’s the best way?”

“Well,” Tagger takes a few moments to consider, “I can shut down the power which will turn off the security for ten minutes.”

Alex begins to adjust her cowl back into place.  “And you know this because?”

“I’ve been testing out their security.  I needed to figure out how to get my sister out, but there’s a lockdown feature when I did that, so—”

Alex rolls one hand in front of herself.  “What do you mean lockdown feature?  Explain.”

“Oh, well, they go to just emergency lighting, and they lock all of the doors so you can’t get any of the kids out until the security system is reset.  It’s pretty slick.”

Alex nods, sitting back on her heels.  “I only see two groups of two guards walking around right now.  Do you know how many are on shift working security right now?”

“There should be two unless they’ve changed something up, but with what’s going on with Maggie …”

“Right, there will be some more folks down with her.  Okay, but still, most of the guards should be in their quarters here right now?  They have rooms here?”

Tagger nods. 

“So the guards will be in their rooms and the kids …?” Alex glances over at Tagger.

“Also in rooms, but the rooms are mixed in.  Unless you know which are which, they all look the same.”

“And you do?”

Tagger nods.

Alex watches the building across the way while she considers the information at their disposal.  “So you can get inside, and you know which rooms are which, but we need you to get to the main area to shut down security, so you can’t show me which rooms hold the kids when I break in … because my big ass won’t let me sneak in.”

Tagger cringes.  “Sorry.”

“Whatever.  I’ve got back, and the ladies love it.”

Tagger’s eyes widen at the comment, but Alex is looking away.

“So, we’ve got ten minutes for you to get from the area where you shut down the power back to meet me by the kids’ rooms where we break them out and lead them to safety before the rooms unlock, and then I still need to get Maggie to safety.”  Alex drops her head onto her arms.  “Motherfucker.  There’s no time.”

“Well … I could mark the doors for you.  Then when I shut off the power, you could head right there.”

Lifting her head, Alex eyes Tagger.  “What do you mean?”

Unbuckling her backpack, Tagger digs around inside it.  There’s a bit of banging before she pulls out a can of spray paint.  The cap is clear.  Tagger shakes it, the sound of a little metal ball bearing suspended within the liquid bouncing around inside the can.

Popping off the lid, Tagger sprays a line of paint down the bricks between her and Alex.  “There.”

Alex coughs slightly as the wind brings the fumes to her face.  Then she squints, leaning closer to try and make out the paint in the darkness.  Seeing nothing, she holds a light close to the area, so as not to attract attention, and shines it on the painted area.  It reveals nothing.

“That’s clear paint.”  Alex’s voice is unimpressed.

The second hint of a smile touches Tagger’s lips.  “I figured all that fancy gear of yours would be better than that.”

Eyes narrowed, Alex looks from Tagger to the line of nothing on the bricks.  Rising to the challenge, she goes through many settings on her lenses until suddenly, a line of paint lights up where Tagger has sprayed.  “Son of a … clever.  So if any guard comes out, they won’t be able to see it.”

“But you’ll be able to see any door I mark.”  Tagger shakes the bottle again.  “I’ll mark the doors where they’re keeping the kids.”

“And I’ll pass them by.  I can blow out the locks on the other doors and take out the guards one by one.”

“You’ll only have ten minutes.  Will that be enough time?”

Alex smiles, grabbing Tagger by the shoulder and squeezing.  “Draw me a map of the inside of that place.  You’d be amazed at the amount of damage I can do to a place in ten minutes.”

 

<><> 

 

Alex sits in darkness against the wall of the warehouse.  This spot is hidden in shadows and obscured from the cameras.  It’s the kind of security issue no good security team would have let slip by, but sometimes you have to be grateful for lazy security.  There’s a vibrating in Alex’s ear, notification that Tagger is in and has begun to tag the doors.  It’s Alex’s signal to launch into action.

She can smell the first team coming her way before she can see them.  One of them is smoking.  It’s another sign of their sloppiness, of them having gotten lazy with time.  It’s the kind of advantage she doesn’t need but will certainly take.  The first man is unconscious before the second even knows she’s there.  He manages a tiny gasp and then a grunt before joining his fellow against the wall.  In less than a minute, they’re both in a shadow, drugged and down for the count, and she’s off to repeat the process.  It goes just as smoothly.

She has their security passes and uses those to get in the front door, but she waits until the lights go out and only the red glow provides minimal lighting to hasten her way down the passageway to the sleeping quarters.  She has a timer running down from ten minutes, and her heart is beating along with it, pounding out the seconds.  She has to skid to a halt when the first glow of one of Tagger’s marks comes into sight, and Alex stands in front of the haphazard setup of rooms that are abused children and their abusers.  Flexing her hands, joints snapping all the way up to her neck, she reaches into a pouch and pulls out the first explosive and tosses it to the lock of an unmarked door.  She covers her face and presses a button waiting just three seconds for the small explosion that is followed by her kick against the door.  She’s inside a second later with fists and feet, letting her anger boil over the man inside.  She doesn’t bother with drugs as she leaves him bloody, broken and unconscious, moving on to the next door.  He won’t be getting up anytime soon, and he won’t be in any condition to cause anyone problems. 

She repeats the process until the lights come back on and there are two unmarked doors left, but two on one she still has them outnumbered.  It’s her, her anger, justice for these kids, and justice for what might have happened/be happening to Maggie versus these two bastards.  They get the worst of any of the group she’s met so far.  If clean breaks are a kindness, that’s the only one she shows them.

As the last man falls, she spins at the pounding of feet behind her, her fist held high.  As Tagger stops, the teen falls backward, hands held up.  Lying on the ground, the younger girl just stares.  Even when it’s clear that Alex knows who came up behind her, it’s also clear Tagger is no less scared.  Finally, a fist is opened to a hand to help Tagger up.

“You okay?”

Alex nods.  “I got them all.  Let’s get the kids out.  You lead them off.  I’ll look for Maggie.”  As Alex takes a step toward the first marked door, a hand grabs her arm.

“I know where Maggie is.”

Head snapping back around, Alex narrows her eyes and shuffles forward making Tagger retreat.  “Sorry,” Alex says with a headshake.  “This whole thing is making me pretty intense.  Did you see her?”

“Sort of.  I got a look at the monitors in the security room.  They have her in the far warehouse.  She looks kind of ... “ Tagger shrugs.  “She was strapped to a chair, but she looked alive.  I couldn’t hear anything, but people were walking around her, guarding her, so that’s a good thing, right?”

Alex nods once then again with more certainty.  “Yeah, that’s a good thing.  Show me on this map you drew.”  Alex pulls out the roughly drawn map.  “Where is she?”

“Here.”  Tagger stabs at the paper with her finger.  “I could see five guys with her, but there could be more.  If you follow this hallway, it splits off here.  You can go straight here into the warehouse, or you can go up here and get in from the third floor.”

“You have been through this place.”

Tagger shrugs.  “She’s my sister.  I needed to know the layout.”  Her eyes drift to one of the doors.

Alex claps Tagger on the shoulder.  “Well, let’s get your sister and the other kids out of here.  Come on.”

It doesn’t take long to get the doors open and get the kids out.  They’re scared.  Of course, they’re scared, but the life they’ve been living is terrifying.  Having Batwoman there is a beacon of hope. 

“Tierney!”  A young girl, early teens like the rest of them, runs out of a room and throws her arms around Tagger.

Tagger holds her tight, stroking the girl’s hair and saying nothing, but her expression speaks volumes.

“You came.  You kept your promise.”

“Hey,”  Tagger kisses her sister’s head.  “I promised, Danica, I promised.  I wouldn’t leave you in here.  It took time, and some help, but I’ve got you.  Now let’s get out of here.”

Danica looks from her sister up to Alex in the Batwoman costume and nods.

Alex takes the lead and Tagger takes up the rear with all the children in the middle as they lead them out of the warehouse.  Amazingly, they don’t meet resistance along the way.  At the exit, Alex watches them make their way to … not safety, but safer than this, and then she heads back inside.  She follows the map she’s been given down several hallways and to the third floor where she can hear voices echoing through a large open area.  She doesn’t understand the language, but pissed off criminal translates universally.

Down below is more open area than crates which makes sense as this warehouse didn’t ship much of value in its boxes.  Alex makes her way around the perimeter getting a good look at the lay of room and the people there.  She counts seven armed men plus one person bound to a chair.  Assessing the damage to that person won’t help the situation, so she moves on.

Smoke bombs are the first thing she tosses into the room.  Immediately several shots are fired before a raised voice has already ordered the firing to stop.  By this time, Alex is already in the middle of the room.  She’s cutting Maggie free which earns her an elbow to the side of the head as soon as the cop has her hands loose.

“Maggie, it’s me, you idiot,” Alex hisses.

“Wha … Danvers?”  Maggie’s voice sounds groggy, disoriented.

“Yeah, try not to kick me when I get your legs loose.”  Alex cuts the zip tie.  “Okay, we need to get you out of—”

“The kids.”  Maggie leans heavily on Alex’s shoulder.  “They’re in this warehouse somewhere.  We need to—”

“Hey, we got them out.  They’re safe.”  Alex tosses her arm over Maggie’s head, the wing covering the other woman as someone shuffles close in the foggy darkness.  “I won’t be able to say the same about you if we don’t move.  Head that way while I distract your friends.”

“You’re going to have a party and not invite me?  Danvers, I know we’re on the outs, but that’s some bullshit.”

“You’re hurt.  You need to go.”

“Because you would if the situation was reversed?”

Alex’s scowl is hidden behind darkness and a mask.  “How badly hurt are you?”

“I’m—”  Maggie bites down on a gasp when Alex pushes against her ribs.  “Yeah, so I’m kind of fucked up.  I won’t win a fair fight.  Let’s not have a fair fight.”

Pulling a pair of goggles out of her pack and handing them over to Maggie, Alex says, “Agreed.”  She hands the woman a telescoping metal pole before making a few hand signals.  At Maggie’s nod of understanding, Alex takes off to the ceiling again.

When the lights go off, the thugs freak out again.  Alex drops down into the fray seconds later, and Maggie comes in from the side, her pole colliding with the first skull just below the ear.  The man crumbles like a piece of paper.  It’s the start to a good revenge.  From there chaos erupts.  Alex takes high, and Maggie stays low.  Idiots with guns fire intermittently either hitting nothing or each other.  It takes just over two minutes for everyone of the bad guys to be down.  The ladies make sure they won’t be getting up anytime soon.

“Where’s your backup?” Maggie asks as they make their way outside. She’s leaning most of her weight on Alex, the fight obviously having taken most of her remaining energy.

“Well, Batman and the others were in a fight too, and Kate is busy so … I had Tagger.”

“Tagger.”  Maggie looks up and raises her eyebrows, possibly the only parts of herself she can still lift without assistance.

Alex nods.

“Your backup for taking down a child trafficking ring was a teenager with some spray paint.”

“The spray paint came in handy.  She’s a resourceful kid, and she had skin in the game.  Her sister was among the kids here.”

“Awww, fuck me.”  Maggie grimaces and stumbles only not falling because Alex catches her.  “I don’t suppose we could call an Uber.”

Alex chuckles.  “I’ve missed your sense of humor.  My bike is just up the hill.”

“Your bike?”

“Batwoman’s bike, okay?  It’s mine until I turn the outfit back in and get my deposit back.”

Maggie’s laugh turns into a painful wheeze.  “Jeez, now which one of us is the comedian?”

When the duo makes it up the hill, it’s to over two dozen pairs of eyes watching them from the nearby darkness.  The kids quickly emerge to meet and thank their rescuers.

“I thought you’d be long gone,” Alex says.

“They wanted to thank you, and if you didn’t win,” Tagger looks around awkwardly, “it wouldn’t have been safe for them on the streets anyway.  Waiting was the best bet.”  While the kids thank Alex and show they still have some childhood wonder left, Tagger approaches Maggie.  “It was me.”

On one knee, leaning against the bike, Maggie lifts her head.  “What was you?”

“I turned you in to them.  I didn’t know who you were, and they promised to free my sister if I gave over information on you.  I’m the reason you’re hurt.”

Maggie blinks several times before letting her gaze wander over to the kids.  “I’m glad they’re safe now.  Let me talk to some folks and see what we can do to give all of you a better chance at a decent life.”

When Maggie doesn’t say something else, Tagger asks, “That’s it?”

“Tagger, you thought you were turning in a major drug dealer in exchange for your sister.  I get it.  My ribs feel differently right now, but I get it.  We’re good.”

“Really?”  Enthusiasm spreads across Tagger’s face.

“Yeah, but no hugs.  It’s not you; it’s me.  That’s not a line; it’s a diagnosis.”

Face softening, Tagger offers up a gentle smile.  It’s beginning to be a habit.  It’s a good one to catch.  “She is right.  You are amazing.”

“Huh?”  Maggie grimaces, an arm wrapped around her torso.  “Who said that, Al—  I mean, Batwoman?”

“Batwoman’s name is Al?”  Tagger’s eyes are as wide as saucers.

Maggie’s breath catches mid-sigh.  “Sure, let’s go with that.”  Leaning on the bike, she pushes to her feet.  “Hey, super-ego, I hate to pull you away from your adoring fans, but I either need to go somewhere and lie down or do it here.  When I do, I don’t think I’m getting up anytime soon.”

Excusing herself from the gaggle of teens, Alex jogs over to offer Maggie support.  “Maybe I should just call you an ambulance.”

“Nope, no bullet holes, no ambulance.  Take me back to tu casa.”

“If you had bullet holes, you’d said you live and make the same request.”  Alex steadies Maggie as the smaller woman struggles to slide a leg over the motorcycle.  “Are you sure you can even hold on while I ride?”

“It would help if you kept both wheels on the ground.”

“Uh-huh.”  Going to a pack on the bike, Alex pulls out some bungee cords.  She slips a helmet on Maggie before attaching one end of a bungee to Maggie’s pants loop.  Then, sitting in front of Maggie, she loops the bungee around her own waist.

“What are you doing?”

“Buckling you in.”  Alex wraps the bungee around herself and then clips it to the other side of Maggie’s pants, securing the wounded cop in place.  “You won’t use as much energy holding on, and if you lose consciousness, you won’t fall off.  Don’t lose consciousness.”

“I will actively decide not to do so,” Maggie says relaxing against Alex’s back.

“Good choice.  Put your hands into my pockets to keep them warm.  Let’s keep talking this ride over so I know how you’re doing.”

“Will I still be able to play the piano, doc?”

“Wise ass,” Alex grumbles as she starts the bike and takes off gently, waving goodbye to the kids.

Tagger holds her sister closer to her.  “You okay?”

“I can’t believe you know Batwoman.  What’s she like?” Danica asks.

“Ummmm.  I think she’s gay.”

“No, I mean the important stuff.”

“Oh.”  Tagger nods.  “Awesome, she’s awesome.”

Danica squeezes Tagger closer.  “You’re awesome too.  I knew you’d come for us.”

“Always.  Come on.  We need to go.  Batwoman said some FBI guys are on their way.  We should leave before she shows up.”

As they walk off, Danica looks over her shoulder into the darkness.  “You know, if she wants to find us again, she will.”

“She said the same thing.  I think we can count on it.”

“Good.”

 

<><> 

 

“Kate!”

“What happened!?”  Kate takes part of Maggie’s weight from Alex, leading the barely conscious detective to the couch.  “Why didn’t you call me?”

“The whole point of me being here is you not getting involved tonight.”

Kate shoots Alex a withering glare before helping Maggie to lay down.  “Maggie, you okay, hun?  Mags, can you hear me?”

“Kate?”  Maggie blinks her eyes open.  “Someone call 911.  I would like to report a mugging.”

Kate and Alex let out a communally held breath.

“She can’t be that bad if she’s making jokes,” Kate says.

“I don’t know, she can joke through most anything.”

Kate nods.  “Even sex.”

Alex's heart skips a beat, her gaze settling on the way Kate tenderly strokes Maggie’s face, moving hair away from Maggie’s eyes.  She studies Kate, the concern as the redhead paints featherlight touches along bruised cheekbones and a split lip, the way pale skin seems almost translucent from worry.  This confirmation should sting, but in a way, seeing comfort given seems to bring it too.

Alex straightens.  “Do you have a medical kit here?  I want to check her vitals.”

“Behind the bar,” Kate says, rising.  “It’s amazing how often I need stitches and whiskey so I—”

Alex leans down on Kate’s shoulder, keeping the other woman by Maggie’s side.  “I’ve got it.”  Alex leaves briefly to return with a med-kit that would do any doctor proud.  “You weren’t kidding about stitches, huh?  This thing is thorough.”  She pulls out instruments as she talks.

“It comes with the trade.  I’ve got a doctor who doesn’t ask questions.  I’ll make a call.”

“I’m an MD.  Help me get her jacket off without hurting her?”

Eyebrows raised, Kate does as she’s asked.  Maggie grimaces a bit but doesn’t cry out.

“An MD, huh?  I thought you were a biochemist or something?”

“Bioengineer,” Alex says as she pumps up the BP cuff, “but I did my residency in Seattle so …”

“Too tight,” Maggie grumbles.

“That you complain about?”  Kate kisses Maggie’s forehead as Alex is releasing pressure on the cuff and listening with a stethoscope.  “If you behave, I’ll get you a lollipop.”

“What about a sponge bath?”

Shaking her head, Alex takes Maggie’s pulse then respiration.  She checks Maggie’s pupil response, eye tracking, and hand and foot strength.  She does a quick physical assessment, running her hands along Maggie’s body to look for bleeds, pain, obvious dislocations, or breaks.  When done, Alex and Kate move to the end of the couch and speak quietly.

“Well?”

“Well,” Alex sighs, “her vitals aren’t bad, but until we get a look at those ribs and her skull, all I’ve done is ruled things out.  With the beating she got, she needs x-rays, preferably an MRI.”

“Where’s my lollipop?”

Kate glances over at Maggie’s question, holding up a finger to Alex before disappearing behind the bar and coming back with an actual lollipop which she unwraps and plunks in Maggie’s mouth before rejoining the conversation.  “Sorry, go on.”

“Can’t believe you actually had lollipops.  Anyway, I know Maggie is opposed, but we need to take her into a hospital or at least an outpatient facility.  Where around here does your doctor friend have admitting rights?”

“Mmmm, whiskey flavor,” Maggie mutters from the couch.

Alex frowns then squints at Kate.  “Wait a minute, is that a whiskey-flavored lollipop?”

“Yeah.”

Eyebrows high, Alex makes her way quickly over to the bar, disappears behind it briefly, “Aha,” before reappearing and returning to Kate with a twirling lollipop in her own mouth.  “So, hospital,” she says as she pulls it out.

“Do you know how to read x-rays and an MRI?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Alex replies around her candy.

“Cool.  I have the machines here.”

“Shut the fuck up.”  Alex puts her hand over her mouth, glancing at Maggie who seems to be resting on the couch.  “Sorry about that.  I was just surprised.”

“No problem.  It’s not exactly the worst thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Alex nods.

“Anyway, We can bring the stretcher in here, so we make it easier on her.  The elevator will take us to the medical level.”

“Medical level and whiskey lollipops.”  Alex takes another suck on her piece of candy.  “You know, I didn’t see the appeal of Gotham when I first got here, but it’s starting to grow on me.”

Kate’s smile is big as she leans in just a touch.  “Oh, we have our perks on the east coast if you give us a chance.  We may not be doctors, but we play at it pretty well.”  She strolls away, beckoning for Alex to follow with one hand and typing into her phone wither her other.

“I should probably stay with Maggie.”

Kate holds up her phone, showing an image of Maggie.  “I have her on security.  Why don’t you come with me and make sure you have everything that you need, then you can come back and help me transfer her.  I’ll probably need a hand undressing her too.”

Alex’s laugh is a loud bark as she catches up with Kate.  “I doubt she’ll put up much of a fight there.”

They step into the elevator, and Kate presses a button, smirking.  “Not usually.”

Alex’s mouth opens and closes several times, wordlessly.

In the end, Maggie has two broken ribs, but her skull proves to be just as thick as she’s always said it was.  Still, Alex prescribes some medication and bed rest repeating the word rest in a way that makes Maggie’s brow furrow and Kate’s endless supply of grins make another appearance.  Together they tuck Maggie into bed, and Alex, dressed in civvies again, is packed up and ready to go home.

“Just call me if anything concerning happens with her situation, and let me know what paperwork she needs me to sign for the Gotham PD.  I know they have their own docs that will want to look over things, but let me know how I can help.”

Kate grasps Alex’s hand, hold it firmly.  “You already did with the kids, the case, my personal time, and mainly her.  She was right.  You’re the best.  I can’t thank you enough.”

“It was for Maggie.  You don’t have to.”

“You still love her.”  When Alex tries to pull her hand away, Kate tightens her grip.  “You still love her.”

“Jesus.”  Alex runs a hand through her hair and those words through her mind.  “Maggie Sawyer isn’t the kind of woman you stop loving.  You hope one day you forgive yourself for falling like an idiot for her, and that you learn how to love someone again, that you find a love that feels even half as good as the way you felt when she held you in her arms.”

“Yeah,” Kate says slowly, letting go of Alex and placing both hands on her own hips.  “You are so obviously still in love with that woman, and she was heartbroken when she showed up on my doorstep looking for a drinking buddy.  Why the hell did you two break up?”

Alex takes a step back.  “She didn’t tell you why we broke up?”

“She told me you were her ex, that things didn’t work out.  She told me you called it off.”  Kate studies Alex for several moments before adding, “She said that once again, she wasn’t enough.”

“She said what!?”  Hands on her hips, Alex doubles over almost as if she was punched in the gut.  When she straightens, she walks around the room, her hand over her mouth.  By the time she looks at Kate again, she’s shaking her head and tears are running freely down her face.  “I can’t believe that she thinks … Maggie was always more than enough, more than I deserved.  I broke things off because I realized too late I had unfair expectations of her.  I was just out, hadn’t ever had a real relationship like this in my life, and didn’t know how to communicate.  I was so broken when I got together with Maggie, and I didn’t know myself.  I saw this amazing, strong, beautiful woman, and who wouldn’t want her in their life, you know?”

With a lopsided grin, Kate nods.

“Being with Maggie made me a better person.  It made me a better agent, a better daughter, a better sister, but mainly it made me a better Alex Danvers.  Maggie helped me to heal, to get closer to being my best self.  As that puzzle came into focus, I realized the person I was becoming wasn’t the person that Maggie really wanted in her life, and I couldn’t lie about that.  If I didn’t become my best self, I always would have resented her.  I loved Maggie … love Maggie too much to be anything but my authentic self with her.  Maggie deserves the best.  She’s perfect.”

“Alex, no one’s perfect.”

“No, Kate, she is fucking perfect.  I’m so sorry I didn’t make her feel that.”  Alex wipes at her nose with the back of her hand as she sniffles.  “Don’t let my failing be yours, understand?”

Kate pulls Alex into a hug.  “Well, now you make sense to me.  Maggie told me she lost the perfect woman.  I guess I finally met her.”

Alex’s laugh comes out around another sniffle.  “No, I’m not—”

Kate pushes her back to arm’s length, waving a finger at her.

“Fine,” Alex sighs, “we both lost someone else’s perfect woman.”

“Good luck with yours, wherever she is.”  Kate holds out her hand.

“Good luck with yours,” Alex says as she shakes it.

That seems to catch Kate by surprise because she laughs and claps Alex on the shoulder before walking her to the door.

Alex is on her way to the street from Kate’s lobby when her phone vibrates.  She pulls it out, seeing Sam’s name on the screen, and stops.  Some quick math tells her it’s after midnight, and she frowns as she answers the call.

“Hey, Sam, is everything okay?”

_“Are you okay?”_

“Um, fine.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

_“Because you haven’t been answering your phone or responding to texts all day.  I was worried.”_

Alex winces.  “Oh, that.  Yeah, sorry, it was just this case got me all—”

_“What case?  You’re out on disability.”_

“Oh, right.”

_“Alex, you are out on disability, aren’t you?”_

Alex handles weapons every day, and she knows when one is loaded.  This question is loaded.

Very slowly, Alex says, “Yes.”

 _“But still, you’re working.”_   Sam’s sigh is the kind they much teach you at the hospital after you have a baby.  It’s a special cocktail of maternal patience and disappointment.  _“You know, Alex, if you wanted to work ridiculous hours and put your life at risk for people who would never appreciate you, I bet Lena would give you a job.”_

Alex chuckles.  “Tempting.  Are you mad at me?”

_“Of course, not.  Why would I be mad?  I was just worried.  You need to answer your phone more often.  People love you, you know.”_

“Uh,” Alex’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry?”

_“That’s a good start.  Are you hurt?”_

“No, I’m fine.  I’m new injury free, didn’t exacerbate my old injuries, did some good deeds, and put the bad guys in jail.  Plus, did you know they make whiskey flavored lollipops?  I’m coming home with a bag of them and a bottle of ridiculously good whiskey, like Lena good whiskey.”

 _“I did not know about the lollipops.”_   Sam chuckles.  _“It sounds like you had an exciting time.  You’re all done?”_

“Yup, all done.”

_“Well, I’m still up, and it’s going to be at least an hour before I can fall asleep.  I was going to have a glass of wine.  Care to join me?”_

“Oh,” Alex steps out as the limo pulls up outside, “Sam I can’t.  I wish I could, but I can’t.  Raincheck?”

 _“Oh, sure.”_  Sam laughs a bit.  _“It’s late anyway.  I was just calling to make sure that you’re okay.  I’m sure you’re tired and just want to go to bed.  I’ll talk to you—”_

“I’m in Gotham.”  Alex nearly trips over her own tongue getting the words out.

_“... excuse me?”_

“I would love to come over and see you tonight, but I’m on the other side of the country, Sam.  I’ll be getting on a plane and heading home within the hour.”  Alex hands off her bags to the limo driver.  “I wish I were there because I really, really would love to have a glass of wine with you right now.”

_“Really?”_

“Really.”

_“Oh, well, then when you cash in that raincheck, maybe we can have some dinner with that wine.”_

Alex’s spine goes rigid, and her eyes widen.  Amazing women coming into your life are like rare astronomical events.  Most of them only happen once in a lifetime.  As a scientist with a sister who’s an alien, Alex knows how rare these sightings are.  Most people only see them from a distance aided by some contraption, but a few people get caught in their gravity.  “Really?”

Sam chuckles.  _“Really, really … if you want.”_

“Yeah … cool.”  Alex is smiling as she nods at the limo driver holding open the door for her.  “Look, I’ve got to get to the airport.  I’ll call you later in the day when I’m in National City.  You should get some sleep.  Don’t drink too much.”

Sam snorts.  _“Hypocrite.  Is your car at the airport?”_

“No, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here, so I took an Uber.”

_“Okay, I’ll pick you up.”_

“Oh, I don’t want to put you out.  I’ll just take another Uber.”

_“Alex, I adore you but don’t be an idiot.  Text me your flight information.  I’ll pick you up at the airport.”_

“I …”  Alex sighs.  “Okay, it’s a private plane, so I’ll text you the time I’m coming in.  Sound good?”

_“Sounds perfect.”_

Even as the cold Gotham air blasts her without warning, Alex smiles.  “Yeah, yeah, it does.”


End file.
